Monday 4th August

Shows : 10
Hangovers : 2

Part of making any endeavour is that each one has its own special problems. It’s the nature of the process. Martin Scorsese

There is a certain roughness in my mind
Waking up down Trinity, to walk
Pretty paths up to Victoria Park
Pass Ferry Road til Pilrig & my home
Where dozing off I feel my spirit roused
The weekend’s reviews inbox unopened
& leap up off the bed prepared to go!

I find myself well beyond the Bridges
Passing New Empire Bingo Hall, enticed
Within by a strange curiosity
To see this brand new venue for myself
The next corner of this land of stages
To give itself over to the Free Fringe
& glad I was to enter its confines

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Where ageing dear normally sit sweating
I sit down with a lovely cup of tea
& see the Rebel Rouser’s greying quiff
Pluck music the fifties, full of fun,
He’s more than just a turn, dynamic voice
Invigorates the crowd, a clapping gang
In celebration of the fun of life!

Next port of call the old Forest Cafe
De-hippied, now a shrine to cabaret
The Ruby Dolls, four grasshopper lasses
Chirping through such a musical cortege
Chopping & changing genres as they drive
The mind’s electric chevrolet along
Imagination’s validating vibe

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I am starting to feel the change of pace
That turns all this reviewing to a race
As minutes tick, the footsteps quicken beats
Rat-running round Auld Reekies freakin’ streets
With seconds wasted here & there as I
Hit solid man-flesh masses on the Mile
Ducking & diving, dodging flyers wide

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Now sat am I inside B’est restaurant
Two hours of Faulty Towers, & a meal
Immersed in the genius of John Cleese
That struck him in the seventies, whose muse
Created perfect mirrorballs of life
That now have sprung to life before my eyes
Tickling me to hysterics, chew-on-chew

I meet wee Al & his pals down Malones
& marvel at a man from Dublin Town
Whose voice of sweetend gravel’s wide ouvre
Dance over his guitar’s fat, funky grooves
Oerlaid by that fine Irishness, as I
Relax a while, a fosters in my hand
The Festival all round, & in me stirr’d

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I head down to the Pleasance, where fair Grace
From Lebanon, has just returned reviewed a show
& get to meet her properly, she’s hot
A twenty-nine year old, enstudied here
& thank her with a G&T, as we
Disect her recent Mumbles for a while
Before we part, & I delve into night

Returning to my room, a pleasant sleep
Soon covers me in slumbers, through the night
I dream of spheres where elevated thought
Shall prosper these next weeks, a mind reborn
A heart unworn, a spirit undenied
Connecting with the hedonistic swirl
Of arts to me unseen, tho yet to come…

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